


Vidi, Vici...Veni. Chapter II.

by MyDesign



Series: Vidi, Vici...Veni. [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 23:32:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4765103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyDesign/pseuds/MyDesign
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal and Will continue to begin their new lives together as murder husbands.  Here we have Hannibal cooking dinner and talking about ALL THE FEELZ with Will.  Also, what are Jack, Alana, and Margot up to?  Let's find out!  The set-up continues, threats of crack and hijinks in the near future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vidi, Vici...Veni. Chapter II.

**Author's Note:**

> I tell you what I'm most looking forward to, getting through all this establishing stuff and getting to the real fun! It's the sap that gives me feelz, but the crack that gives me life. I feed on it like the Verger baby probably feeds on paint chips.

 

 

CHAPTER II

 

Will took a long shower, letting the hot water run over him but careful of his stitches and new injuries.  The bathroom was filled with steam when he turned the water off and the heavy air felt warm and comforting as it dissipated, like settling into a bath of blood only to be born from it into a new life.  Or something like that.

 

Will scrubbed his hair with a towel and then used it to clear the fog from the mirror.  He looked at his reflection, surprised that his face didn't look worse than it did.  He'd anticipated a horribly disfiguring scar, but Dolarhyde's knife had been sharp and precise, leaving a clean cut only an inch or so long.  Will silently thanked the Great Red Dragon for not completely destroying his pretty face.  Imagine Will Graham being disfigured by someone like that, what a travesty!

 

Speaking of scars, his fingers lightly ran across the large scar on his stomach, finding it hard to believe that he had now basically run away with the man who had given it to him years ago.  Though in retrospect, he did probably have it coming...from a certain psychopathic point of view.

 

Will smiled despite himself, wondering how things could have been if he had simply left with Hannibal back then.  He wouldn't have this scar, Abigail would still be alive. Hannibal probably would never have been caught and Will certainly would never have met Molly and married her.  Looking back, everyone's lives probably would have been a lot better if Will had just left with Hannibal when he had the chance.  Well, you know what they say about hindsight.

 

Will looked at the wedding band on his left hand.  He had gone to see Molly in the hospital only yesterday morning, but it felt like a lifetime ago.  He supposed the one comfort he had in leaving Molly and Walter behind was that Molly knew as well as Will that he was never coming home.  He could tell she had suspected when they talked on the phone, but their first conversation in the hospital after her surgery had confirmed it.  They both _knew_ he was never going back.

 

And really, thank God for that!  He breathed a sigh of relief.  Family life had certainly had its moments, but that sort of mundane life was just not for Will.  If he had to hear Molly nag at him one more time that if you don't put away your fishing gear, William Ichabod Graham, before someone trips over it coming in the front door, so help me God.......Will wasn't going to be held accountable for his actions.

 

Muffled sounds drifted down the hallway from where Will could only assume was the kitchen.  He smiled, thinking of Hannibal back in the kitchen after three years locked up.  How happy the other man must be.  Will pulled the ring off of his finger and sat it on the counter next to the sink.  An unneeded memento of a life that he had never really been comfortable in.

 

===

 

Down the stairs and through the dining room, Will found Hannibal up to his elbows in preparing dinner.  His hair was freshly washed and his charcoal sweater had been discarded for a more fitting vest and tie combination, complete with apron.

 

"You play the harp?" Will asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, towards the dining room where he'd passed the large gold instrument sitting in the corner.

 

"No," Hannibal didn't look up from the vegetables he was cutting, "but it seems like the kind of thing I should own."

 

"Right, seems legit."  Will stood awkwardly in the doorway to the kitchen, unsure what to do.  "Do you want me to help?" he asked finally.  "Or...stay out of your way?"

 

"You could never be in my way, dear Will," Hannibal looked up at him, eyes sparkling, "but tonight, I want to treat you.  Pull up a seat."  He turned to the fridge and plucked out a small red box, extricating a green straw from a wrapper and expertly putting it in place.

 

Will pulled a stool up to the counter and sat opposite Hannibal, accepting the offered juice box and taking a small sip.  The smile Hannibal gave him was so full of affection that he felt a little embarrassed, like he'd forgotten to get dressed after he got out of the shower.

 

He looked down to double check.  Ok yeah, he'd gotten dressed.

 

"So what's for dinner?" he asked.

 

"Normally I would say that you shouldn't ask, but," Hannibal answered with a long and seemingly descriptive name for the dish in French.  At least, Will thought it was French.  Italian?  Probably not Spanish, he knew at least enough Spanish to recognize the language.  Maybe.  He stuck with assuming it was French, nodding with a mix of appreciation and feigned understanding.

 

"Sounds delicious," he said.  The amused look that Hannibal gave him made Will slightly worried that the other man knew very well that he had no idea what he was talking about.  He nervously sipped his juice box.

 

"I'm very glad that you're here with me, Will," Hannibal said after a few minutes.  "It's hard to believe that it could be true."

 

"I hardly believe it's true myself," Will answered honestly.  "A part of me wonders if I'm crazy to be here, or still lost in your mind games and not under my own control.  I briefly wondered if I should leave, run far away."

 

Hannibal put down the knife he was holding and looked directly at Will, expression serious.  "You must do what you feel is right, of course," he Obi-Waned.  "I admit that I would much prefer it if you stayed."  He picked the knife back up and continued chopping carrots.

 

"Oh, I'm not going anywhere," Will sighed.  "I've made my bed.  I'm with you."

 

Hannibal's hands paused in their cutting and he swallowed hard.  "Now when you say you've made your bed-"

 

Will stood and moved around the island counter to put his hand on Hannibal's shoulder.  "I mean it," he said, realizing there was no reason to hold back now.  "I'm with you, Hannibal.  I won't leave."

 

Hannibal looked over his shoulder at the man next to him and simply nodded, heart feeling like it had found a new home, uncomfortably lodged in his throat.

 

Will smiled and touched his forehead to Hannibal's shoulder and stood there for a moment before looking back up at him.  "I'll let you finish dinner though.  I'm looking forward to it."

 

Hannibal counted his blessings that Will's back was to him when he left the kitchen as Hannibal had practically cut the tip of his thumb off with the large knife in his hand.

 

===

 

He did not, however, count his blessings at Will's apparently lack of piano lessons.  The younger man had retreated to the living room and spent the last thirty minutes attempting to pick out melodies on the piano. Hannibal's hands now sported six band-aids where he had inadvertently cut or burned his fingers upon a particularly incorrect chord or rhythm.  When he heard Will switch to picking out a few notes on the harpsichord though, he couldn't take it any longer.

 

"Will!" Hannibal called.  "Would you like another juice box???"

 

"No thanks, I'm good!" came the reply, followed by more unpleasant harpsichord notes.

 

Hannibal frowned and looked around for any excuse to stop the noise.  His eyes briefly lingered on a large carving knife, but he quickly shook his head.  _No, Hannibal_ , he admonished himself.  _You're not going to try to kill Will._

 

"Could you set the table?  Dinner is almost ready," he called instead, letting out a sigh of relief when he heard the key lid on the harpsichord drop shut.

 

===

 

"Honestly, Will, you'd think you would have at least learned the order of the _forks_ during all of our dinners together," Hannibal was saying as he finished rearranging everything Will had laid out on the table.

 

"Sorry," Will apologized, oblivious to his serious affront to proper etiquette and class.  "I guess I never paid that much attention."

 

"Obviously!" Hannibal huffed.  Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself and added "Proper Table Settings" to his mental list of _Things to Show Will_ , just below "Which Contrasting Patterns You Can Get Away with Pairing in a Shirt and Tie Combo" but above "Hannibal's Impressive Collection of Pogs."

 

As they settled into dinner, Will put an - Hannibal cringed to see - especially large piece of meat in his mouth and hummed appreciatively at the taste.  "This is delicious."

 

"Unfortunately, it really is only pork this time," Hannibal said.  "It felt good to be cooking in a proper kitchen again.  The kitchen at the hospital left much to be desired, I'm afraid."

 

Will frowned.  "Wait, they let you cook while you were in the hospital?"

 

Hannibal nodded as he chewed, swallowed and said, "Yes.  I cooked for Dr.Chilton on numerous occasions."

 

Will sat down his knife and fork.  "They let you, a convicted serial killer and cannibal, into the kitchen?  And they let you cook?"

 

"Do you find that strange, Will?"

 

"Yes, I find that strange!" he gestured to the adjoining room.  "Kitchens have knives and pointy things and stoves and ovens and all sorts of potentially deadly objects!  Why would they let someone in a hospital for the 'criminally insane,'" he emphasized the words with finger quotes, "anywhere _near_ any of that stuff?!"

 

"I suppose they trusted me not to spoil the culinary arts with petty revenge," Hannibal shrugged.

 

" _I_ wouldn't trust you not to cut off your own finger just to watch Frederick Chilton find it in his soup," Will admitted.

 

Hannibal looked thoughtful for a moment.  "The idea never occurred to me," he said.  "Shame, it would have been worth the look on dear Frederick's face."

 

The rest of the course passed in thoughtful silence for opportunities missed.  It wasn't until dessert had been served that Will spoke again.

 

"I suppose we should talk about where we stand," he said quietly.  "If it's even possible to define this...relationship of ours."

 

Hannibal looked at the table in front of him.  _Keep it cool, Hanni_ , he thought.  _Keep it cool._ _Will just used the R-Word, it's the moment you've been waiting for.  You can do this._   Making eye contact with the younger man, he said aloud,  "Yes, I suppose we should."

 

Will looked out the large windows at the sun poetically setting over the trees in the distance.  "There's no going back for me," he said.  "I know that now.  After all this time, you finally got me to embrace who I am and I can't let that go again.  For every part of me that _knows_ that it's wrong, there are ten parts of me that _feels_ that it's right."  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, admitting almost reluctantly, "It feels too good, being myself, to stop now."

 

Hannibal purposely knocked a knife to the floor, biting his fist and squealing under the table as he leaned to pick it up.  Resituating himself in his chair, his face was a mask of composure.  "I'm very happy to hear that, Will," he said.  "I've only ever wanted you to be who you are meant to be."

 

"Blood and breath are only elements undergoing change to fuel my radiance," Will quoted.  "You said that to me once."

 

Hannibal's brow furrowed.  "When did I say that?"

 

"Almost four years ago," Will answered.

 

Hannibal shook his head.  "I don't think I said that, Will."

 

"Yes, you did," Will frowned.  "I remember it clearly.  We were having dinner, it was a lot like this."

 

"I don't really even understand what that statement _means_ , let alone imagine I would have said it."

 

"You say flowery things like that all the time," Will insisted.

 

"And you remember every little thing I've ever said?" Hannibal raised an eyebrow.  "A little weird, isn't it, Will?"  He took a bite of his dessert.

 

"Bedelia told me that you're in love with me," Will said suddenly, looking at the other man.

 

Hannibal almost choked on his fig.  "Di-id," his voice cracked.  Attempting to clear his throat, he tried again.  "Did she now?"

 

"Yeah," Will looked down at the food in front of him, face flushing almost imperceptibly.  "I didn't know what to think of it at first.  I wasn't even sure that I believed her."

 

Hannibal coughed a chunk of fig out of his lung.  "Really?"

 

"I couldn't imagine that I would have missed the signs of that," Will answered honestly, "but I asked around and apparently everyone else knew already."

 

"You asked _multiple_ people?" Hannibal choked out, contemplating whether it was worth interrupting a conversation this important just to ask Will to give him the Heimlich maneuver.  His face started to turn blue.

 

"Well, Jack just gave me a _look_ ," Will did his best to mimic Jack's stern expression, "like he was so done with my shit and walked away, so I didn't press the issue.  Alana burst into tears and petted my head like I was a lost puppy."  Will frowned again.  "I asked Frederick Chilton, but he just drooled on himself a bit and tried to stab me with his IV tower.  In the end, I texted Freddie Lounds and she replied with 'Of course he does, ya big queen!'.......and I figured she's been mostly right all along."

 

Having finally dislodged the remainder of his dessert from his windpipe, Hannibal pushed his plate aside.  "And how does that knowledge make you feel?" he asked, slipping into the role of Will's psychiatrist in an attempt to not look _too_ interested in Will's thoughts on the matter.

 

"I don't know how it makes me feel, to be honest," Will said honestly.  "I've never been interested in being with another man.  I've never been sexually or even _romantically_ attracted to one either.  But..." he trailed off.

 

"Buuuuuuuuuuuuuut?" Hannibal prompted carefully.

 

"But..." Will sighed.  "You cannot control with respect to whom you fall in love."

 

Hannibal's fist stopped midway to his mouth.  "Ok, I did say _that_ ," he admitted, "but you definitely were _not_ there when I said it."

 

Ignoring the paradox he'd created, Will leaned forward and placed his hand on top of Hannibal's, resting on the table.  "But it's true," he said sincerely.  "And I realized that I fell for you a long time ago."

 

Hannibal turned his hand over to hold the other's, thumb rubbing lightly over Will's knuckles.  "I do love you, Will."

 

Will took a deep breath and smiled one of the most genuine smiles Hannibal had ever seen on the younger man.  "I love you too, Hannibal."

 

===

 

"Nah, they're probably dead," Jack was saying, rubbing his forehead with the hand that wasn't holding the phone to his ear.

 

"'Probably?'" Alana's voice said for the third time from the other end of the line.  "You haven't found any bodies?"

 

"No, we haven't."

 

"Any _parts_ of bodies?"

 

"Not a hair."

 

"You're right, they're probably dead," Alana conceded finally.  "I guess we fled the country for nothing."

 

"No, you were right to leave," Jack said, walking over to pour himself a glass of whiskey even though he was at work.  "Hannibal wanted to kill you.  I would've left the country too if he wanted to kill me."

 

"Hannibal _did_ want to kill you," Alana pointed out.  "Remember that dinner you were supposed to have with him and Will that left all of us in the hospital and Hannibal flying off to Europe?"

 

Jack frowned.  "Hannibal wasn't going to kill me, Will said he was going to reveal himself to me.  I thought he was just going to confess to being the Chesapeake Ripper.  The only reason he attacked me was because he saw me go for my gun."

 

"Uh no," Alana sighed, patiently.  "Hannibal was planning on him and Will killing you and running away together."

 

Jack sat down in his chair with a thud.  "But...Hannibal and I were friends," he said, shocked.  "I never thought he would want to kill me."

 

"Yeah, and all those friendly dinners you had with him?  That was probably human on your plate."

 

"I...I thought 'long pig' was a special type of hog breed..." Jack felt sick.

 

There was an awkward pause in the conversation before Alana spoke.  "It doesn't matter now though, Jack.  Hannibal and Will are probably dead, so we're all safe and can go on with our lives."

 

"Yes, you're probably right.  Give Margot my best, have a safe trip home."  Jack was obviously still processing Hannibal's betrayal when he hung up the phone.

 

"How is Jack?" Margot asked as her wife returned her cell phone to the pocket on her expensive coat.

 

"He's good," Alana answered.  "He insists that Hannibal and Will are probably dead."

 

"Probably dead?"

 

"It's better than probably _not_ dead," Alana said, logically.

 

"Oh, I suppose that's right," Margot nodded.  "We might as well go home then."

 

They sat for a few more minutes as their son played on the playground.  The cheerful laughter of the children was pierced by a scream and the wails of a little girl, clutching a now headless Barbie to her chest.

 

Alana rushed forward to extricate the Barbie's head from their son's mouth.  "That is the third time he's done that this week," she said.  "Do you think we should be worried?"

 

"Nah," Margot replied with a shrug.  "Only half of his genetics came from my brother.  He'll probably turn out fine."

**Author's Note:**

> **I figured out the whole "chapters" thing on AO3, so I'm now posting this fic as it probably should have been from the beginning (don't shame the noob!). You can read/bookmark it[here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4852271)!**


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